


One Month's Time

by feverpitchfiasco



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: But also a slightly hopeful ending!, Gen, Post-Reichenbach, Reunion, Slightly hurts, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverpitchfiasco/pseuds/feverpitchfiasco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes words aren't needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Month's Time

A month ago, Sherlock slowly climbed the stairs to 221B. The creak of the stair brought Mrs. Hudson out to investigate. At the sight of him, she gasped, grabbed his arm and pulled him inside 221A. While certainly shocked to see him alive and well, she didn’t ask how or why he’s still alive. Something in the drawn pallor of his skin tells her she really wouldn’t want to know. She didn’t cry, nor did she go into hysterics. She gave him a tight hug, and steered him toward the front door. Told him to give it a little bit more time, that John wasn’t ready for this right now. Sherlock stared up at his old front door, then into his ex-landlady’s eyes. He saw determination and truth. He left with a nod and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

John poked his head out, shadows under his eyes visible even from this distance. Asked what’s going on. Mrs. Hudson smiled through her broken heart and told him nothing. 

\----

Three weeks ago, John could have sworn he saw a familiar coat and shock of dark hair at the grocery store. He abandoned his cart, darting down the aisles in a frenzy and found nothing but alarmed customers and a service manager asking him to please leave the premises.

\---

Two weeks ago, John was in his office pretending to do paperwork when the door opened. A familiar, haunted looking man sat down across from his desk. They stared at each other in silence for twenty minutes before John stood and left the room. He didn’t come back. 

\--- 

One week ago, Sherlock knocked on the door of 221B. John answered and let him inside with a short jerk of his head. They fell into a new routine, caught in each other’s orbits but wary. Scared of the other and scared of who they’ve each become in their isolation. Sherlock, sat on the edge of the bed, buried his head in his hands and cried. Surrounded by silence and the musty stench of the aged cardboard boxes that now held his former life.

\---

Today, the silence that has reigned over their reunion is finally broken. John steps into the living room, stands behind Sherlock as he plays his violin. After the last few notes fade from the air, they are brought face to face. John reaches out and settles a hand on the narrow chest that doesn’t dare breathe.

“Sherlock.” 

“John.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving, and the smell of cardboard boxes in my room inspired this for some reason. 
> 
> If you want to keep up with me, and follow yet another multi-fandom blog, check out my tumblr! feverpitchfiasco.tumblr.com


End file.
